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Coelacanth’s ears fluttered apologetically, their tufted tips touching down lightly upon her nape as Moorhen turned away from them, but her face didn’t broadcast disappointment — only the lonely sort of love that was her trademark. In the end, though, the banded raven retraced her steps with a disgruntled rumble — and Seelie, accustomed to Moorhen’s various moods and modes, glossed past the grumpiness with a delighted attempt to kiss the girl’s shadowed cheek. She fell into step behind the two puppies and beside the Agarwaen, and without preamble, she said mournfully, “Faeryn leaf Undersea.” It wasn’t a question of loyalty for Coelacanth, who didn’t have it in her to doubt the blue she-wolf, and she still couldn’t help the selfish inclination that she could control this somehow — that it was about her leadership methods — and that she had some hand in driving all the others away, too.

Thinking back on Faeryn’s farewell, Coelacanth turned to Moorhen for succor (never mind that the prickly Cairn was scarcely more verbally savvy than she!) and gently pressed, “Faeryn ‘missing something,’” a troubled shadow dimming the seasparkle in her eyes. She cocked her head to the side to regard the girl with a wondering expression. Aside from the obviously missing Thresher, “Moorhen too ‘missing something’?” she asked, her quizzical posture popping a question mark at the end of her silky susurrus. She did not pause, and the measured clip of her steps did not cease, but made it clear that she prioritized Moorhen’s answer enough to lift her hawkeyed stare from her wayward puppies for a prolonged moment.